


Leave The City Behind

by DisConsulate



Category: Homestuck, Mirror's Edge
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:11:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisConsulate/pseuds/DisConsulate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We call ourselves Runners, and we live on the edge.  Between the gloss and the reality..."</p><p>Crossover Mirror's Edge/Homestuck experimental fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Pulse

**Author's Note:**

> Sunlight beats down on the pavement, bleached white. Heavy footsteps draw near, carrying the fast rapid breathing of running at full tilt. A bright red split-toed shoe slams down, throwing up a small cloud of cement dust. The foot lifts, rolling up from heel over arch to toe, a splatter of red falling to the ground as the shoe disappears. The footsteps quickly fade, and the breathing vanishes.

_Once this city used to pulse with energy, dirty and dangerous, but alive and wonderful.  Now, it's something else._

  
The sun shines brightly overhead, the sky is a clear blue, and a light wind off the sea tosses an errant zine clipping out over the street far below.  A young man with black hair stands at the edge of a roof, scuffed blue sleeveless hoodie, blue and sky blue striped jeans, and bright yellow sneaks.  His right arm is inked, black swirls like clouds  over rippling musculature.  
 ~~Even in a city like this one, the night is alive with late-shifters driving to work.  A young woman in navy-and-powder blue striped capris, a grey-and-powder blue T and black tennis shoes jogs up to the edge of a roof.  Blank ink vines wrap around her forearms, which are toned and strong.~~

  
CAM01 04-01-2013 10:31:03 AM: CCTV corner of Prospit Avenue and 39th Street West, unidentified person in olive drab places unknown object at the end of an alley ten metres down 39th between the Maryam Memorial Hospital and a commercial building.  
CAM02 04-01-2013 10:31:05 AM: CCTV corner of Prospit Avenue and 39th Street East, large crowd of civilians halted at cross-walk by appropriate signals.    
CAM01 04-01-2013 10:31:13 AM: Civilian crowd dispersing.  Object confirmed to be standard yellow messenger carrying case.  _(Screen capture saved to City Police database for review per Addendum 21B_xvT/E3)_  
CAM02 04-01-2013 10:31:15 AM: Unidentified person in olive drab crosses Prospit Avenue against the flow of traffic.  Facial details obscured from camera sight.  Hair color identified to be black.  
CAM01 04-01-2013 10:31:23 AM: Pedestrian traffic flow steady.  Yellow messenger carrying case remains in sight.  _(Screen capture saved to City Police database for review per Addendum 21B_xvT/E3)_  
CAM02 04-01-2013 10:31:25 AM: Unidentified person turns, face is now visible to scrutiny.  Eye color identified grey.  _(Screen capture saved to City Police database, flagged for Identification Match per Addendum 67X_rjF/Q9)_  
CAM01 04-01-2013 10:31:33 AM: Unidentified person removes yellow messenger carrying case from its position.  Facial details obscured.  Person identified to be female with black hair, wearing black and white long-sleeved T-shirt, khaki cargo pants, and red shoes.  _(Screen capture saved to City Police database, flagged for Identification Match per Addendum 67X_rjF/Q9)_  
CAM02 04-01-2013 10:31:35 AM: Person Of Interest walks into commercial building, identified 1124 39th Street.  _(Screen capture saved to City Police database for review per Addendum 01Y_klP/C6)_

The young man in blue jumps.  Fifteen feet down he rolls on concrete, rising to his feet and setting off at a brisk run.  He squints against the glare, feet pounding on the rooftop as he scans his surroundings.  Solar panels line the next roof over, then a pair of large AC units stand next to a rooftop shed and a metal railing to a fire escape.  Beyond that, a yellow billboard with a stylized sun logo.  And beyond that...  
 ~~The young woman in blue looks ahead: a bare stretch of roof before a fenced in generator unit, a pair of cooling tanks and a steam-pipe crossing over an avenue.  A pair of billboards, then, and a tall shed with a ramp to the next building.  Beyond that, the red face and distinctive logo of the Corp, lit by spotlights.  Smiling, she jumps.  
~~


	2. Training

"Training time, John.  I know you find it unpleasant, but we don't want you injuring yourself in another fall.  Dave should be around there somewhere; find him, and he'll bring you up to speed."

 

John stands on the roof of an office building, relatively small in comparison with the skyscraper across the avenue, adorned with billboards ( _Gushers: Now In Newer, Healthier Flavors!_ ).  He cracks his neck and adjusts his glasses, hopping in place--he'd already limbered up by running there, but he got stiff joints if he stood still for too long.  He jogs forward, hopping over a water main.  Easy, cushioned landing.  Takes ten steps, vaults an exterior vent, just a bit of effort to lift himself up and over the blocky tube.  He glances right, at the rest of the block, and spots a familiar figure on an adjacent building, watching him, arms folded.  Sunlight glints off a pair of aviators.

 

"It seems our resident ninja warrior has come out of hiding," Rose says in his earpiece.

 

John hops the steps of a yellow fire escape, vaulting the railing to drop down to Dave's level.  The buildings are only separated by a narrow alley.  Dave greets John with his customary nod.

 

"Sup, John."

 

Dave wears a red T-shirt with a broken record, black pants, and red converse.  John knows that intricate clockwork ink adorns his shoulders, chest and back, but for whatever reason Dave never got himself a tat that anyone could see without taking his shirt off.

 

_"Great way to stick out in a crowd, splashing ink all over your arms and face.  Good job, Egbert, we're supposed to be going incognito, the ironically high up underground resistance.  I don't even have to name names when they bring me in for questioning, I just point to the buck-teeth doofus with the sweetass blue ink and go, 'that guy, officers.'"_

 

"Hi, Dave!"

 

He goes in for the fistbunp, and Dave does not disappoint.

 

“I dunno why Rose made me come out here for this.  I mean, it’s obvious you can run just fine again, look you managed to get up here without falling to your death, but whatever it’s this or a week of nagging and jobs in the storm drains and thank you but no I’d rather throw myself in front of a CP truck.  So hop to it, John.”

 

Dave runs.  Down the slope of the roof to a plywood ramp ( _“We put these things here to make it easier on ourselves.”_ ), leaping over the alley to a terrace with several large AC units and a chain link fence.  John takes a deep breath and follows.  His shoes pound on concrete, and he’s airborne.  Wind rushes in his ears.  He lands with a thud, knees bending (protesting) to take the weight.  Dave nods, and climbs the fence.

 

It’s simple Simon Says: Dave moves, and John repeats.  Dave hops on one foot on the other side of the fence, and dashes forward.  Another alley opens up before him, but the gap is bridged by a large slab of sheetrock placed billboard-style across it.  Dave jumps at it, his feet tapping the sheetrock to propel him across.  John watches until he comes to a halt on the other side.

 

“Do I have to do that stupid short hop, too?”

 

“You know the rules, John.  Don’t tell me I have to report this back to Rose, how our little John’s growing up and getting all rebellious on us.”

 

“Okay, fine, jeez.”

 

John breathes out, hopping up to grab the fence and lift his body over.  Smooth; even with a broken leg, he had still kept his arms in shape.  He drops, hops, and wallruns across the gap after Dave.  Dave turns and sprints to a far door, sliding under a set of steam pipes to reach it.  John follows after, scuffing his pants on the pavement.  Crash.  Dave kicks the door open and disappears inside a cramped electrical room.  John is seconds behind him.  Crash.  Dave knocks open another door, and exits to another terrace.  He alights on an I-beam.

 

“Oh no, Dave, please don’t,” John says, a sinking feeling in his gut.

 

Dave aerials off the I-beam, lands feet together and drops into a handstand, watching John with blank expectation.  John sighs deeply before following suit.  He spares a peek down: a few people in suits walking out to their cars on the nearby street, but the white sidewalk below otherwise empty.  If he fell, nobody would even see…

 

He gathers himself and leaps, legs outstretched superciliously, arms straight up.  He doesn’t quite stick the landing, stumbling a little and turning the handstand into a somersault.  Dave has already moved on, tapping off a nearby fence and catching the lip of the next storey up.  He pulls himself to his feet, and jogs away.  John follows him up in time to watch him jump, swing from a bar running under a large vent, and grab a steam pipe running up a far wall. 

 

John smiles.  This one’s easy enough!

 

He almost misses the bar, fingers barely seizing it in time to prevent a painful fall.  John feels a stab of panic, pain in his digits, but he forces himself not to jump just yet.  He readjusts his grip, and swings his body back and forth over the empty space.  The far wall is powder blue, the steam pipe painted white.  He lets go.  Nearly slams his face into solid copper, but he has a good grip this time.

 

Dave has shimmied up the pipe and jumped to a nearby scaffolding.  John follows after him, grunting as the edge of the scaffold hits him in the chest.  He scrambles up the wall to the edge of the building’s roof, sidling along it to the corner.  He’d climb up, but Dave didn’t, and besides there’s yet another chain link fence in the way.  Around the corner, and his biceps are starting to burn a little.  Dave is scrambling up and over at a hole in the fence.  John breathes in through his nose, and with an explosive shove off the wall throws himself up over the ledge and onto this roof.  More scaffolding, with tin sheeting and empty paint buckets strewn about.  Dave hops again, runs three steps and jumps, tapping off one sheet.  Above, parallel to the first, is a second.  Dave hits it feet first, knees bent to accept the momentum, and rebounds off, twisting in the air to grab onto the uppermost level.  Above the scaffold, the building continues up, but not so far that Dave cannot clamber up to the next ledge and edge along it.

 

John takes a second to steel himself.  _Wallrun-Jump-Wallrun-Turn-Jump.  Simple enough._   John hops.  He taps off the sheet, which echoes and feels flimsy through his soles.  Adrenalin builds rapidly in his chest as the second sheet approaches, and he sticks his feet out in time to catch himself, jumping off before gravity can take hold of him.  He twists, and hisses as the scaffold bites into his hands, his shoulders and back stiffen painfully to keep him from swinging (and losing his grip, and falling…).  

 

Dave hasn't waited yet again.  John wouldn't mind, except this is supposed to be training, and not a race.  From an antenna atop a roof-access stairwell, Dave jumps and grabs onto a thick cable, sliding along it like a zipline ( _"It's fine just don't ground yourself or cross the beams like a dumbass.  Ha.  Did you like that?  Cross the beams.  That nerdcore break in my cool was all for you, John, I hope you appreciate the lengths I go to ensuring your safety."_ ).  John winces.  He should've worn gloves today, and he knows it.  He clambers up to the antenna, and zips after Dave, trying to ignore the burning sensation on his palms.  Dave drops off the cable over a tarp crashpad (it's actually just covered sandbags), flipping once for show.  John never got the hang of flips, and doesn't attempt it on the off-chance he lands flat on his ass and bruises his tailbone.  Picking himself up, he catches up to Dave, who jogs up a short ramp to the roof of a mechanical shed.  Barbed wire defends the edges from intruders (for some unfathomable reason), but Dave runs at it anyway, jumping over it and coiling his body tightly to avoid the metal snares.  He lands, on a roof even with John, across the alley, back at the building where he first waited.  John runs and jumps, holding his breath as he tucks his knees up to his chest, feet foreward.  He sticks the landing this time.

 

Dave hops off the shed, rolling on the lower roof and running toward a pair of crates set up near a high ladder.  He springboards off them, grabbing the ladder and climbing up to the very top of the building.  John follows, head ducked to avoid striking it against the tar-coated roof as he rolls, and meets up with Dave.  

 

"Alright, Johnny boy, you knew this was coming," he says, assuming a combat stance.  "Sparring practice with the ninja warrior."

 

John gulps.  He knows he won't enjoy this, but drops into a similar stance.  Square frames face off with dark shades, the sun blazing high overhead.  Dave steps forward with a jab, which John blocks.  He clacks his shin painfully agianst the follow-up roundhouse that Dave throws, but stays balanced.  ~~Jake dives at Dirk, head down, wrapping his arms around Dirk's waist.  They tumble to the ground.~~   John fades back and returns with a front kick.  Dave sidesteps and clocks him with a light hook.  Kid gloves on.  Don't want to send anyone to the hospital.

 

"Dukes up, John," he says, bobbing and weaving half in demonstration, half in jest.  "Them CP's may be slow, but they don't pussyfoot around combat.  Keep your arms up and protect your pretty little head, no matter what."

 

"Whatever, Dave.  I can just outrun them," John says, throwing a few more punches but hitting only air.  Dave is more fleet of foot than he is.  "It's not even a big deal."

 

Dave steps around a wild right cross and taps John in the kidney and then the back of his head.  John spins and surprises Dave with a back kick.  He hops back for another one, but Dave drops and sweeps his leg, causing John to fall.

 

"Alright, next up: disarms," Dave says, taking a pistol out of his waistband.  "Lalonde's orders.  Try and take it from me.  I won't even put up a fight."

 

John rolls to his feet.  Dave turns around, gun down by his side.  John runs up, grabbing Dave's wrist and pulling, off-balancing him before yanking the gun out of Dave's grip.  He returns it.  Dave takes the gun and faces John.  He winds back for the pistolwhip, but John ducks under the arm, seizing Dave's wrist again, slapping Dave's now exposed head.  In a real fight, John wouldn't have held back.  Kid gloves.  Gun in hand, John removes the clip and empties the chamber, tossing the pieces aside.  Dave smirks.

 

"You there, Rose?" he asks, putting a hand to his comms unit.

 

"Yes, I've been keeping my eye on things, so to speak.  If you're quite finished, Jade has been chomping at the bit for someone to relieve her.  John, you can come back to base for now."

 

"Aw, really Rose?  Why you gotta do me like that?  I take precious time out of my day and now it's all, 'thank you very much now back to work, citizen'," Dave complains.

 

"What's this?  Looks like we've got a high profile job coming in.  Oh, but look at that, it's on Derse Street.  Fastest way to get there is, and correct me if I'm wrong in this, through the storm drains."

 

"Fuck, okay fine, I'll go help Jade.  Just gimme coords," Dave says.  John sniggers, to which Dave responds by flipping him the bird and jogging off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't expect regular updates. This fic is pretty much an experimental thing.


	3. The Edge

Jade stands on the ledge, hair blowing in the afternoon sea breeze.  Thirty stories below, cars trundle up and down a wide avenue.  She takes in the view: a few tall, gleaming skyscrapers across the way, glass and metal modern geometric shapes stacked high; down the avenue, the bay opens up, hemmed in by warehouses and docks.  Across the bay, the sun glares off the tinted glass edifice of the Shard.  She can see a pair of cargo ships docked further along. 

She smiles and adjusts the strap of her yellow messenger bag, tapping on the window behind her.  It slides open partially, allowing her to collect a small drive, which she puts in the bag, and jogs off along the ledge.  It is no wider than a foot, but it’s enough.  She turns at the corner, jumping down a long slope and sliding a little at the bottom.  She reaches a scaffold below a billboard, turning left to ascend just a little.  Spots a crane across the street at a construction site, vibrant red arm hanging toward her at the moment.  She steps on the billboard once, twice, three times, and leaps.

Jade hangs in space, neither rising nor falling, time slowing down to one prolonged instant of weightlessness and tension.  The dead point.  Her feet connect with the crane arm, and she is running again, down the arm, over the cab to slide down a leaning pile of plywood.  Jade rolls up onto her feet and runs along the concrete floor of the construction site, jumping down a few floors to the roof of the neighboring office.  Solar panels shine in rows around her.  Her earpiece crackles to life.

 

“Having fun, Jade?”

 

“Hi, Rose!  What’s new?”

 

“Good news for you: I’ve managed to wrangle Dave into taking the second leg of this run.  He’s not happy about it, but then he never is.”

 

“Mr. Cool Shades?  Happy?  Of course not.”

 

“He’ll meet you at the City Eye News broadcast building.  You should be able to see it from where you’re standing: it has a rather large red antenna on its roof.”

 

“Yep!  I see it!”

 

“Best hurry, then, if you don’t want ‘Mr. Cool Shades’ to lose it.”

 

Jade giggles and rechecks the antenna.  It’s a couple of blocks from where Jade is standing, across at least one major avenue.  She cracks her knuckles, then her back, and hustles. 

 

_“…City Eye Channel News’s Eye In The Sky.  We’re here over the Financial District as a rally for mayoral candidate Jane Crocker gets underway.  Crocker’s platform is one of greater transparency and candidness among the various departments of city governance.  In a press conference, she leveled charges at incumbent Mayor Scratch of overstepping his mandate with the recent surveillance program aimed at boosting security against outside threats.  Proponents of the surveillance program, called Vision Omnifold by city officials, claim it has been responsible for the dramatic decrease in violent and petty crimes.  
_

_We are now following the route that Ms. Crocker’s motorcade will take from her office to the rally site at Mendicant Plaza, which passes by…hang on, what was that?  Ladies and gentleman, we’ve just spotted an unknown figure…it looks like she’s running on the rooftops along this path!  I’ve just seen her clear, oh my, what I would guess is a thirty foot gap!  She is clinging to the side of a building on the street above the motorcade by an exterior pipe, which she is climbing to reach a nearby ledge.  Can we get a close-up of that?  She is a young woman, probably in her early twenties, and this is just an incredible feat of athletics ladies and gentlemen.  I’ve never seen anything like this before._

_…we have to report this?  Per which addendum?  Alright, just do it, but don’t lose track of her…”_

“Jade, you’ve been seen.  Hurry up and make the rendezvous with Dave before the CP arrives.”

 

“On it!” Jade says, kicking open the exit door and sprinting inside.  The whir of the chopper outside recedes as she tries to find the roof-access stairs.  She rounds a corner, grinning as she run-slides into a closed vent grating near floor level.  The grating collapses, allowing her to infiltrate the ventilation shaft, which takes a more circuitous route before suddenly dropping from beneath her.  She falls a good distance, but rolls on the ground when it rushes up to meet her.  She glances up and sees a troop of CP blues staring at her in surprise.

 

“Crap!”

 

She turns and flees down a side passage toward a flight of emergency stairs.

 

“Stop her!” she hears, and doubles her pace.  Near the top, she takes two steps up the stairwell wall from the landing, turning and jumping over the shocked head of the nearest blue.  She vaults over the railing at the top landing and smashes open the emergency exit door.  Through a storage room and out the fire door, she’s on the roof again. 

 

“Jade, I’m patching Dave in.”

 

“sup Harley.”

 

“Hi coolkid!” Jade says, hopping over a low railing.  The rooftop across the street is two floors lower, but far enough away she needs a running start to have a hope of reaching it.  Blues in the storage room behind her.  No time to waste—Jade runs parallel to the street, building speed.  Behind her, one of the blues comes to a halt outside the door, opens fire.

 

“You ladies mind telling me what’s going down?  I hear gunshots, and that news chopper’s getting pretty curious.”

 

Jade is almost at the corner when she turns—two steps away from the ledge, two steps parallel, full throttle toward—and jumps.  Jade cycles her legs, sun shining off the white concrete she’s aiming for.  Blues shout into radios far behind her.

She misses, slamming into the side of the building just below the lip, barely managing, between having the wind knocked out of her and the pain from knocking her knees against a shatterproof window with enough force to crack it, to cling to the edge.  She breathes out.  Twenty stories down, a crowded street full of activists cheering and waving flags in the shadow of the offices and banks.  She breathes in and pulls herself up, muscling through the sharp needles in her shoulders and down her back.

 

“Ow,” she says, stumbling a little.  “That hurts.”

 

“You okay to finish this run, Jade?  Want I should come meet you?”

 

“Stay right where you are, fuckass, I’m fine.”

 

The block is a more or less flat straight away, broken by a complex of rooftop sheds at the far end, and several chain link fences.  Up ahead and to the left, Jade can see the red antenna of the City Eye news building, although she isn’t close enough to tell whether Dave is there or not.  Somewhere in the periphery, the news chopper hovers.

 

“Jade, there is a small contingent of security personnel up ahead.  You might have to fight.”

 

“Thanks Rose.  Wow, these blues are persistent today.”

 

Jade leaps the first fence, dodging between a pair of skylights.  She climbs over the second fence, fatigued, and drops down to a lower level by the sheds.  A maintenance area.  The shed forms an L-shape at the edge of the building.  Across the street, a bank building thrusts upward high above her.  She climbs up the shed and turns left to see a roof she can jump to, on which stand three blues, staggered formation.  She sprints, then leaps, easily clearing the narrower gap.

The first blue runs toward her.  She rolls, coming out of it with a vicious uppercut to his crotch.  He gasps and doubles over.  Jade turns, grabs his arm and levers him over her shoulder, sending his gun clattering away.  The roof next to her explodes in a little cloud of dust.  Shots.  She scrambles up, keeping as low as she can, dodging for cover behind a line of AC units.

She can hear radio chatter growing closer.  Footsteps.  The blue’s gun is probably at waist level.  Jade waits until he’s right on top of her, explodes up as soon as the gun’s in sight and knocks it aside.  The blue spins, and Jade kicks his exposed back, sending him sprawling.  One last blue, but she’s got better things to do.

The City Eye News building is cattycorner to this one, but she can get to it if she climbs the fire escape of the office building across the street from her position.  She follows the line of AC units, keeping out of range of the last CP radioing for backup, to a climbable pavilion.  From its top, she hops the gap to the fire escape, making her way up as quickly as possible while the throbbing in her knees and the front of her ribcage gets worse.

At the top, she sees Dave, standing at the edge of the building with his hands in his pockets.

 

“Hey Jade, up high.”

 

Jade unslings the messenger bag and hurls it up to where he’s standing.  He snags it out of the air by its strap, throwing her a thumbs up.  Jade smiles.

 

“Shit.  Jade, behind you.”

 

A door slams open.  Jade turns and looks at a small platoon of armored blues piling out onto the roof.  Dave has turned and gone, but Jade can’t follow him—the City Eye roof is too high up across a narrow alley.  She looks quickly around for escape options.  Further away, the news chopper hovers near the building roof, camera capturing the no-doubt daring arrest.

Jade runs for it.  Over a fence, behind the cover of a solar panel as machine gun fire dogs her steps, but never stopping.  As she approaches the edge, the chopper seems to realize what she’s about to do, and tries to lift off, but too late.  Jade jumps, grabbing the landing bar.  A warning siren from inside the cockpit sounds, and the chopper loses altitude fast.  Jade catches sight of her disheveled reflection in the glass face of the building she recently exited before dropping.

~~Dirk is yelling in her ear, but Roxy doesn’t care.  She took the bastard down.  The chopper swings around drunkenly, nearly throwing her out.  The roof is getting further away.  Bracing herself against the plummeting aircraft, she jumps.~~

She lands with a loud whump on a makeshift crash pad.  High above, the armored blues look down at her, some pointing.  She sighs.

 

“Hey, Rose?  What the fuck was up with that?”

 

“I haven’t the slightest idea.  As far as I can tell there’s no reason they should have been shooting, least especially with fully automatic weapons.  Dave’s in the clear, it seems, so that’s one thing in our favor.  I’ll look into this.  Hopefully this is just election-season high spirits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing definite in the pipeline, but there will probably be another chapter or two in the next week depending on my moral fortitude.


	4. Flight

_Rose’s Hideout – 2:42 a.m._

A helicopter flew overhead, spotlight searching the rooftops below.  Rose ignored the beams of light that shone in through the slats of the hollowed-out AC unit that served as her home.  It was spacious enough for a couch, a coffee table, and her computers with room to spare.  Various bits of knitwear lay scattered about the place in various stages of completion.  The tracker tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and continued scanning the police frequencies.

While once she would have donned a dress, the rigors of her profession did not permit it—she lounged in her seat in a pair of lavender overalls, white sneakers and a black T-shirt with a white Squiddle on the front.  Her right arm was saddled with an elbow brace and black glove, testament to past injuries.  Her only visible markings were a black tangle of thorns poking out from her sleeves, and a sunburst over her right eye.

 

_“Officer Lalonde, this is Dispatch, what’s your position, over."_

_“Dispatch, this is Officer Lalonde.  I’m checkin’ out the Crocker place, takin’ a statement from the big lady herself on that break-in earlier.  It’s 3232 West Arland Drive, over.”_

 

“Break in?  Be careful, Roxy,” Rose murmurs to herself, minimizing the window to search through a list of the day’s police reports.  Six hours ago, Jane Crocker reported a break in at her office.  That’s as far as the report went.  Rose dismissed it, and returned to her eavesdropping.

The comms receiver crackles to life.

“Hey Rose come in Rose.”

“Hello, Dave,” Rose replies with a brief sigh.

“Rose John and I are at the 24/7 pizza place picking up grub and we couldn’t decide on whether to get mushrooms or pineapple or mushrooms and pineapple, and Jade’s not around to tie-break for us, so can you help us out here.”

“I’ll take black olives, peppers, and pepperoni, and if I detect either the hint of citrus of fungus on my pizza I shall not forget the slight.”

“Rose you are six ways twisted, girl, you know that right?  I’m telling John over here what your order is, and he agrees with me that your taste buds are as shriveled as your heart, and also you’re kind of threatening.”

“Hell hath no fury like a Lalonde scorned, I believe is the phrase you used.”

“Like damn, demons down there better be taking notes, is all I’m saying.”

“I host weekly séance seminars in the water tower atop the hospital, if you’d like to drop in sometime, perhaps even to provide a practical demonstration?  The lecture format has never really suited my pedagogical style.”

“Pass.  Anyway, gonna go place this order and jet back to base.”

“Be here in thirty minutes or less, if you would.  I’ll be timing you.”

“Goddamn it Rose.”

Comms go silent, leaving Rose in the relative quiet of her lair.  She retrieves an unfinished scarf from the futon and resumes knitting.  The police frequencies chatter every few seconds or so.

 

 

Jade is on street level gabbing into a payphone on the corner of Forge Street and 42nd Street.  She grins and laughs into the receiver.

“Yeah, classes are going great!  I’ve made so many friends.  I wish you could meet them!  I know, you’re busy with things at work, but you need to tell them to give you a day off so you can spend time with your only granddaughter.”

Jade sighs dramatically.

“You know why you can’t stop by the apartment.  I’ll just come visit you!  It’ll be great.  Too bad they closed down the shooting range in old town.”

Jade laughs.  A chopper passes overhead, spotlight wandering over the glass and concrete faces of the office buildings around her.  The beam illuminates an advertisement for Xe Mound International Shipping.

“Yeah!  That sounds amazing!  I can’t wait.  Okay, I have to go now, I’ve got an…exam tomorrow!  I haven’t studied.  Of course I’ll ace it, but I need to at least _glance_ at the books.  Love you, too!  Bye!”

Jade hangs up the phone and jogs to a nearby side street, keeping her head down when she passes beneath a street camera.  Jade mounts a dumpster, tapping off the wall and grabbing an exterior AC unit fifteen feet up from the pavement.  From there it’s a simple climb up to the roof, where a couple of benches overlook the financial district.  Construction cranes and spotlights crowd out towering offices.  Somewhat removed from this cluster, Jade can see the Crocker & Associates building, framed against the neon glow from across the bay.  The Shard sticks out of that light, a shiny splinter even this late at night.

Jade takes a running start and clears the side street she ascended from, grabbing a steam pipe jutting out of the building’s concrete edifice.  She hops over to a long balcony, running off in the direction of home.

 

~~The drones break down the door and rapidly, methodically swarm into the room.  The bespectacled old man stands sharply, smile sliding from his jocular face.  The woman sitting across from him did not feign surprise, but her black lips frowned in concern.~~

John shakes himself.  He had been distracted by the reflection in the window of the pizza place, but on closer inspection it was just a car passing.

"Dude, city to Egbert, come in Egbert.”

“What?”

“You were mad spaced just then.  What’s up?”

“Nothing.  It was just a car or something, I dunno.”

“Cool.  Let’s get this pizza back to Rose’s before she knits our names into a blanket to smother us in our sleep with.”

John chuckles.  “It’s pretty hilarious how scared of Rose you are, Dave.”

“Chica’s terrifying, yo,” Dave says, completely sincerely.  Not that John’s convinced by it.  Dave tucks the pizza box into his messenger bag while John pockets the garlic bread and soda, and the two cross the street to a fenced in park.  The slide was taken out, Astroturf was laid down, and the swings shortened for ‘public safety’ some years back.  They even painted over a nearby mural of kids playing sports.  It’s a crying shame, thinks John, but what can one do?

 

~~The old man touches a pin in his lapel, spraying water in the face of the first drone to approach him.  The woman has taken a pair of knitting needles from her purse and blinds the second drone.~~

A couple of blocks away, John has to slap himself.  He stopped to stretch out his knee, which was aching, and got lost in a chance peek at the glass face of the building across the street.  Dave is watching him, eyebrow raised over his shades.

“John, this is like the second time tonight.  Do you need to lie down or something?”

“Man that’s weird.”

“What?”

“You ever get the feeling that, there’s this other world out there where things keep happening, but you can only see it out of the corner of your eyes?  Like, if the universe were reset or something, and you were an action cop hero or something, and Rose was an award-winning writer, and Jade was an honest to god scientist?”

Dave doesn’t even hesitate.

“Oh yeah, all the time.  Action cop hero, huh?  Only in your sweatiest Nick Cage fueled dreams, dude.  If I had the chance to start again, I’d be a badass movie producer, all, step aside Steven Spielberg, you ain’t even yesterday’s news anymore.”

John laughs.

“Whatever, dude, you wish you were an action cop hero.”

“Not even,” Dave retorts, smirking.

 

~~The old man and the woman are backed up against the bay windows off the office, with no end to the drones in sight.~~

There’s a low rumble in the distance.  Rose feels a slight tremor and pauses in her knitting, glancing over at her computers.  She waited patiently—if it was worth investigating, there would be chatter.  And…

 

John heard the boom, and stopped, looking around.  Dave clambered up a nearby roof shed to scan the horizon.

“Dude, look,” he said, pointing.  John joined him, following his arm to a point by the bay.

 

Jade was hanging from a ledge, twisting around to see where the blast had been.  A plume of smoke rose from near the financial district.

 

“ _10-80.  All officers converge on 3232 West Arland Drive.  Repeat: 10-80, all officers converge on 3232 West Arland Drive.  This is a Code-3, repeat, Code-3.”_

Rose stared, mouth hanging open.  She tossed her knitting aside and ran to the computer, shoving the chair aside and pulling up building schematics for 3232 West Arland Drive.  By the time she has her route plotted, Jade has dropped inside through the hatch in the ceiling.  Rose tucks back a stray lock of hair and puts a wireless comms unit in her ear.

“Rose?  Where are you going?”

“There isn’t really any time.  Get on comms and track me.”

Rose jumps, pulling herself outside and shutting the hatch behind her.  She sees the smoke plume in the distance, and makes for it as directly as she can.

 

_West Arland Drive, 6:45 a.m._

 

Rose is two blocks away from the offices of Crocker & Associates.  In the streets below her, a police barrier has been set up, traffic being routed away from the scene.  A plume of smoke rises from the far side of the building from where she stands.  Her earpiece crackles to life.

“Rose?  Mind telling me what’s up?” Jade asks.

“It’s my older sister,” Rose says.  “She was at 3232 West Arland last night taking a statement from Jane Crocker about some break-in.  Has there been anything on the police scanner since I left?”

“Just the usual security lock-down stuff.  It looks like they haven’t actually gone in to see if anyone’s alright yet.”

Rose purses her lips as she leaps over from the ledge of an apartment complex to a cooling tower on a neighboring building.

“Oh, hang on,” Jade says.  “Says here the police are working with some kind of private security firm in charge of the place, and that’s why they haven’t gone in yet.”

“Well that doesn’t make my job any easier.”

“Be careful, Rose!”

“Naturally.”

Rose wallruns along a billboard ( _City Eye Channel News: Keeping Watch Day And Night_ ) over West Arland Drive proper.  She hops the railing on the other end and rolls ten feet down onto a terrace across an alley from Crocker & Associates.  Runs, building momentum, and hurdles the gap to a small veranda, the only break in the structure’s smooth, black glass façade.  She lands on a bench, short hopping off it and rolling to spare her knees.  She throws open the nearest door and runs inside.

The interior of Crocker & Associates is sterile modernity, white and lime green walls over lime green carpet, minimalist furniture, glazed glass windows into meeting rooms and offices.  Black marble wall by the elevator, which Rose takes up to the thirtieth floor.

 

CAM10 04-02-2013 06:53:22 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Unidentified person in lavender overalls exits elevator into atrium.  _(Screen capture forwarded to security office, flagged urgent)_

CAM11 04-02-2013 06:53:24 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Fire continues to burn in Jane Crocker’s office.

CAM10 04-02-2013 06:53:32 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Unidentified person climbs stairs to Jane Crocker’s office, opens door.  _(Screen capture forwarded to security office, flagged urgent)_

CAM11 04-02-2013 06:53:34 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Smoke from Jane Crocker’s office obscuring lens, Unidentified person in lavender overalls walks to Jane Crocker’s desk.  _(Screen capture forwarded to security office, flagged urgent)_

CAM10 04-02-2013 06:53:42 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Smoke from Jane Crocker’s office obscuring lens, lobby empty.

CAM11 04-02-2013 06:53:44 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Smoke from Jane Crocker’s office obscuring lens, Unidentified person in lavender overalls searches Jane Crocker’s desk, removes unidentified object for examination _(Screen capture forwarded to security office, flagged urgent)_

CAM10 04-02-2013 06:53:52 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Smoke from Jane Crocker’s office obscuring lens, lobby empty.

CAM11 04-02-2013 06:53:54 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Smoke from Jane Crocker’s office obscuring lens, Unidentified person bends down over unidentified object obscured by flames and Jane Crocker’s desk.  _(Screen capture forwarded to security office, flagged urgent)_

CAM10 04-02-2013 06:54:02 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Smoke from Jane Crocker’s office obscuring lens, lobby empty.

CAM11 04-02-2013 06:54:04 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Smoke from Jane Crocker’s office obscuring lens, Unidentified person exits Jane Crocker’s office, wiping eyes.  _(Screen capture forwarded to security office, flagged urgent)_

CAM10 04-02-2013 06:54:12 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Smoke from Jane Crocker’s office obscuring lens, security personnel arrive via elevator.

CAM11 04-02-2013 06:54:14 AM: CCTV Office Unit, Smoke from Jane Crocker’s office obscuring lens, Unidentified person runs.

 

“Damn.”

“Rose, get out of there!”

Rose stands on upper level of the atrium outside of Jane Crocker’s still-burning office.  The exterior windows had been shattered by the explosion, which fanned the flames just enough to keep the fire going through the night.  Rose unconsciously taps the thing in her pocket she’d found among the wreckage with her bloody, ashy fingers.  Security personnel spot her and start shouting.

Rose vaults over the railing into an adjacent wing, full of glass displays of model office buildings and homes.  Blood is rushing in her ears as she tries to recall the floor plan.  Above her is the Accounting office—she runs past a display case, turns, mounts it, and taps off the column at its head to the balcony above.  Taking the stairs at the end of the wing would have wasted time.  Her feet pound on the tile floor upstairs.  There is a catwalk above her head connecting the accounting room with a manager’s office.  She takes two steps on the wall and throws herself at its railing.  Bullets fly past her in a brief spray as she pulls herself over and rolls onto the catwalk.  The accounting office door is open, so she runs inside, scanning the ceiling for an open vent.  The vent shaft is built into the wall across from her.  Rose vaults over a low railing and jumps at a ceiling beam to reach it, kicking in the vent and disappearing inside.

She drops out of the vents into a small hall at the other side of the building, knocking open the emergency exit and tumbling onto a veranda.  A glass slope stretches out below her, ten floors down to a straight drop to the street below.  There are shouts behind her, and she doesn’t think about it, vaulting over the railing and sliding, trying to angle her descent to aim for a short office building across the drive.  Bullets pepper the glass as an armed chopper hovers nearby.  Tiny shards cut Rose’s face and arms, and at the last moment she gets her feet under her and throws herself out.

The building falls away from her, her momentum carrying her across West Arland Drive.  Below, police lights blink and flash.  The rooftop ahead of her draws rapidly near.  Shifts her feet, bracing for landing.

She cracks her knees against the stone tiles on the roof as she rolls, transferring her momentum more painfully than she’d intended.  Rose rights herself, a bit shaken, but dives for cover among the cooling towers as the chopper returns, spraying the building with machine gun fire.

“Jade, I need an escape route.  Now.”

“I’m on it!”

Rose sprints as fast as she can, ducking under pipes, and climbs a fence at the edge of the roof.  She drops down to a lower terrace, hoping to disappear into the cover of the back alleys of the financial district, warrens of exterior air vents, steam pipes, and fire escapes that they were.

“Okay, take a right up ahead and make your way to Mendicant Plaza.  It’s basically a straight shot.”

Rose jumps down to a fenced-in ledge with electrical conduits lining the right wall.  She hops over the foot traps as she runs, scanning ahead for her next route.  She passes by an office building on her left, and suddenly she’s exposed to the chopper, which has been tracking her.  She ducks down behind a row of solar panels as it opens fire.  At the corner of the building, the ledge turns right toward an alley, an HVAC unit, and a large fire escape across the way.  Rose waits a moment for the chopper to stop shooting, and runs for the fire escape.

Jumping across the alley, she grabs a pole sticking out of the side of the building and swings onto the metal stairs, climbing up until she finds a long exterior vent running parallel to the alley below.  Mounting it, she picks up speed and hops across the alley again, grabbing the ledge of a roof and clambering up.  A pair of massive generators hides her from sight.

“Rose, the CP are being called in to help catch you.  They’re staking out the buildings ahead.”

“Thank you, Jade.”

Her sneakers scuff the tar roofing as she crosses the roof, hopping over to a terrace café across a narrow street, kicking open the door as the chopper shoots again.  Bullets shatter glass tables and rip through thin umbrellas, but miss Rose.  Inside, she resists the urge to use the elevator again, opting for the emergency stairs to take her down closer to street level.

“Okay, this floor.  You’ll be able to get to Mendicant Plaza from there.”

Rose knocks open the door, which leads into a hall with yellow walls and black tile floors.  A wall screen at the corner overlooking a public park is turned to the morning news.

 

“ _…is City Eye Channel News bringing you this stunning report of a bombing at the offices of mayoral candidate Jane Crocker early this morning, which caused a fire that has led to city police roping off the area.  Jane Crocker was in her office last night, when police officials say she filed a report about a suspected break-in.  Shortly after an officer arrived on the scene, an explosion rocked the building.  Security officials working for Ms. Crocker report that an investigation is underway, although foul play is suspected.  At this time Ms. Crocker is in intensive care for severe injuries sustained in the blast.  The city police officer on the scene was also recovered, and is receiving care.”_

Rose throws open a door and enters a skyway that crosses an avenue passing by Mendicant Plaza.  Police vehicles tear up the road toward her.  She crosses the skyway, drops down a flight of stairs and throws open the front door.

Outside, a walkway runs parallel to the avenue.  On either side, a pair of open squares with fountains, with shop fronts and park benches lining the edges.  Rose sprints to the end of the walkway, where a flight of stairs goes down into an underground mall.  Mendicant Plaza is still a few blocks away, but staying on the streets is not an option.  Sirens blare loudly as police cars screech to a halt at the avenue’s edge, attempting to block Rose.  She simply vaults over.

“City Police!  Put your hands up!”

Rose ignores them, jumping over the side of the walkway to the square, taking cover from the sudden bursts of gunfire.  Police cars head off the boulevard running perpendicularly ahead of her.

“Do not run!  Repeat, do not run!”

The chopper is back, and an officer leans out the side with a megaphone, shouting down at Rose.  Rose dives over a bench, scrambling around a map kiosk and runs into the mall.  The walls are aquamarine, lit by neon signs and advert backlights.  At intervals of twenty feet, metal gratings can be lowered to prevent thefts.  Rose slides under a set attempting to cut her off from a flight of stairs leading to the lower level.

 “Dammit!  Go around!”

Rose smirks, taking a right at the bottom of the stairs and following the winding tunnel around a few turns.  Up more stairs, and Rose’s breath is ragged, but Mendicant Plaza is just around the corner.

She breaks out.  The plaza opens before her, a shallow flight of steps leading from the mall, where an open loggia to her right leads to more shops.  Across the plaza is the city’s elevated metro.  A pair of police officers await her, guns drawn.

_(Remember, Rosie, you gotta isolate ‘em if you want to win)_

Rose dodges behind a pillar as the nearest officer opens fire, sneaking quickly around to knock out the second one with a solid kick to the back of the head.  She picks up his fallen gun, and turns around to confront the first.  Rose hurls it at his face, forcing him to block it, and punches his stomach once, twice, finishing with an uppercut to the chin.

The police sirens are back, so Rose wastes no more time.

“Jade, where am I going?”

“Get up onto the tracks.  John’s going to meet you up ahead to help draw some of the heat off.”

“Uptown or downtown?”

“Uptown, of course!”

Rose nods to herself and runs to the metro station, climbing up the open exterior to the platform, and then up a short ladder to the tracks properly.  Trains rumble by every two minutes, giving her a narrow window.  She waits for the uptown train to pass, dropping into the tracks after it and sprinting to a break in the fence up ahead.  The chopper flutters overhead, but even the trigger happy CP wouldn't fire on the metro.  The downtown train zips past on the opposite rails.  Rose can feel the vibrations as another uptown comes up behind her.  At the fence gap, she throws herself out of the concrete ditch of the tracks just as the train, horn blaring, passes. 

“Hi Rose!”

“Hello, John,” Rose says, looking ahead.  A cable connects runs from overhead to a large glass skylight across the street below.  “What’s the plan?”

“Just get to me.  I’m in the mall across the street from the plaza.”

Rose hops in place, and then jumps at the cable, catching hold of it and sliding toward the skylight.  When she’s over it, she drops.  The skylight shatters under her, and she plummets twenty feet, landing hard on her back.  John, standing nearby, jumps in alarm and turns around to see her fall.  She looks up through the hole in the ceiling to see the chopper fly past.

“Hey, Rose, are you okay?” John asks, waving a hand in her face to get her attention.  Rose nods.  “Come on, then!”

John waves Rose along and takes off running through the mall.  Rose gets up, brushing the glass off herself, and follows after.

“Okay, guys, it should be clear if you can get to Skaia from there,” Jade says.  “It’s morning rush, so the blues will have a rough time trying to follow you.”

“Thanks, Jade,” Rose says, overtaking John.

“…”

“Yes?  Don’t think I didn’t hear that ellipsis, young lady.”

“Is your sister going to be okay, Rose?”

Rose’s pace doesn’t falter, although her breath hitches just a little.

“I’m not sure.  Someone tried to kill Jane Crocker last night, and maybe Roxy as well.”

“Roooose,” Jade says, warningly.  “Whatever it is you’re planning, don’t!  It’s dangerous!”

Rose ignores her, and keeps running.


End file.
